soldtoarmenians | Thursday, Room 121, all day (general goodbye post)

Xander's already ~~handwavily~~ sent out e-mails letting people know his new cellphone number if they didn't have it already, and his UC Sunnydale e-mail address, and... when he's leaving. Which he finally has to say 'tomorrow morning' about instead of 'Friday' because they're one and the same.

Now... he's still packing. Posters, folders, last-minute items and just stuff he wanted to leave up for as long as possible to make the room acknowledge that for now, he still lives here. Every so often he and Bridge are taking a break to look at pictures or watch a dvd, because at this point he's on the flipside of where he was yesterday: if he packs too fast, the room'll be empty, and Xander can't quite take that, not yet.

You can't really say Jeremiah's taking a break; he'd have to have been working in the first place for that to be true. He's just going back and forth between supervising the packing and supervising the loafing.

The door is open. Xander's yearbook is on the desk next to Jeremiah, for anyone who feels like signing it.

__

[Open all day, or ping in tomorrow if needed since some importantomg people are unfortunately afk today. Good for slowplay until... it's done.]

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Xander smiled faintly. "John offered to hide me in his closet."

"John is mad-scientist-brilliant. I like this plan." She sighed, looking away. "I don't know how to do this. You're Xander. There isn't supposed to be sadness and wistfulness associated with you. The universe is unravelling. And I don't know how to knit. Or crochet. Or whatever."

"And here I was looking forward to you sending me one of those woolly bobble-hats for Christmas." Xander moved a pile of books aside and sat down on the bed himself. "Which okay not so useful in California except that one year, but still. I'd wear it if you made it."

Parker gave him a look, that pretty much said, bitch, please. "Yeah, well, when the apocalypse comes, I'll send you the bobble-hat so you're well-dressed. Damnit." She fished a CD case out of her jacket pocket, and handed it over to him. "It was all I could think of. You don't need boots, you *have* boots. If I bought you designer clothes, you'd never wear them. So. Music from here. Including that stupid weeds song, and Masochism Tango."

"You made me a mix cd." Xander grinned another one of those grins that hurt, something quick and sharp in his chest, because seriously, Parker. Mix CD. It might as well be a bobble-hat.

"I'm going to miss you. I hate missing people," Parker muttered. "It isn't fair. Why couldn't you be a senior *now*? Stupid portal dumping you out a year early just so we'd get to know you and miss you."

No, she is not crying. She isn't tearing up. No. No!

"I don't-- heh." It wasn't a very funny laugh. "I actually don't don't know. Why I ended up in Fandom when I did. I'd have missed a lot of stuff, though, if I was only just getting here now." He shrugged, a little helplessly.

"And... I'd probably be acting like a bitch toward you in a Common Room right now, if you were just showing up as a senior," Parker admitted. "So. Not trading the last year." She scooted a little closer, and maybe, possibly, leaned against him. "Any of it."

He, maybe, possibly, slipped an arm around her. "A couple bits we could lose maybe; it'd be nice to go to a school that didn't have a memorial page in the yearbook, for once. Or in Sunnydale's case about five of them. But most of it, I'd hate to have missed."

Parker's smiling, but her eyes *are* watering, and it's a trembly smile. "Yes. The memorial page would've been nice to omitt. But, the rest of it... No. Occasionally weirdly awkward bits and all." One of her arms might have curved around him. "You don't call, and you get the same treatment as Cal. I'll find some way to come *find* you. Or call your Willow, and make her whap you for me."

"Ah, friendships based on fear and threats of bodily harm. Some people scoff, but I find them oddly motivating."

Parker grinned at that. She had to. Burying her head on his shoulder, she muttered, "Be careful, okay? Most of the other things that threaten you on a Hellmouth don't like you this much."

"Clearly you never met the mummy-girl or Drusilla under a love-spell."

"Eeeuugh. My only encounters with Drusilla? Are scary enough without the words 'love spell' attached." She tightened her arm around him, then carefully pulled away, wiping at the edge of one eye. "Be careful, will you? And write, damnit. You don't have Angel's age-and-technology-phobia. I expect letters."

She leaned in and gave him a fast kiss on the cheek, then winked at Bridge. "One for the road."

Thursday, Room 121, all day (general goodbye post)

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